


A Case of Mis-Drunken Identity

by junko



Series: 'Tails' of Zabimaru [7]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 00:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While as an Academy ‘intern’ at the Thirteenth, Renji is forced by Captain Ukitake to take a break from paperwork and quickly ends up among… friends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Case of Mis-Drunken Identity

 

Renji found working as an intern for Captain Ukitake weirdly infuriating. The problem was that captain of the Thirteenth Division was too damn _nice_.

It seemed that, whenever Renji actually started to make decent headway into the pile of overdue paperwork, Ukitake would sweep in and demand he take an hour or two off “to explore.”

Often, Renji would smile and agree, but only go away long enough to get food or take a quick nap. He’d set himself a very specific objective for his internship: conquer this mountain of crap before the summer was over. Renji attacked this project like he did any goal he set for himself—with everything he had. As far as he was concerned, this was an all-out war. The paperwork would be defeated or he’d go down bloody and still swinging.

In fact, Renji was beginning to imagine Ukitake as the enemy; a smiling, friendly obstruction to reaching his ambition.

And today, the captain… escalated the battle.

Renji had spent the entire night without sleep in order to send off an enormous pile of work he was ridiculously proud of (considering how trivial it really was) to the head captain’s office _by deadline_. His big plan to celebrate this accomplishment had been to grab a quick meal and strong tea from the mess. Then, he would finally tackle the stuff he’d mentally labeled ‘really weird and complicated shit.’ To get to the bottom of ‘weird/complicated’ seemed like a major advancement. In fact, Renji was a little alarmed at how excited he was to be finally reaching it.

But, when he came back to the office with a bowl of tea in one hand and a pot of rice in the other, he discovered the door to his small office locked.

Renji stood in front of the rice paper door staring stupidly at it for a moment or two, taking alternating sips of rice porridge and tea. He tried shouldering it again. It still wouldn’t budge. He drank more tea, thinking. He kicked it. Still nothing. Renji didn’t even know his door _had_ a lock, or he would have used it long ago to keep Ukitake and other distractions out.

Setting the tea and rice down, he put both hands on the door with the intention of giving it a massive shove. The instant his palms touched the wooden frame, however, Renji sensed kidō. Someone had used magic to keep him out.

It had to be that damn captain and his annoying idea of ‘nice’

Picking up his bowls, Renji stormed down the hall.

Of course, whenever Ukitake was feeling well, the captain’s door was always open. He was that kind of guy.

Renji peered around the edge of the door frame. Ukitake knelt on a cushion behind his desk. Someone, probably one his adoring Third Seats, had brought him a fresh vase of summer blooms. Ukitake seemed to be enjoying rearranging them more artfully. All the while, he ignored the papers that needed his mark which Renji had placed there several hours ago.

His lieutenant, Kaien Shiba, sat across from him, laughing at some shared joke. Shiba irritated Renji at least as much, if not more, than the captain. Their first introduction had rubbed Renji all the wrong ways. Shiba had made some smartass-trying-to-be-funny line about how Renji could call him ‘captain’ since Ukitake was out so much. Renji forgot to laugh. Instead, he tried not to growl. The whole time Shiba was slapping him on the back, Renji was thinking he’d call that punk captain when Shiba had the spiritual energy to match the title.

That was the whole thing about Shiba in Renji’s mind. He seemed to want all the privilege of rank, but none of its responsibilities. Shiba seemed to do everything around the division, BUT act like a proper adjutant. He apparently couldn’t even be shamed by the fact that Ukitake had to hire out Renji, a second year cadet, to take care of all the crap Shiba blew off.

And now he was colluding with the enemy.

_Captains and assistant-captains are beasts_ , Renji thought silently.

Perhaps sensing the spike in Renji’s reistsu, Ukitake looked up. Of course, he smiled. He was always smiling. “Ah, our favorite cadet,” he said with a beckoning motion. “Come in!”

“Yeah, Abarai,” said Shiba, “Come have some tea.”

“No thank you, sir. I have tea already. It’s just, well, someone locked me out,” Renji said pointedly, without stepping into the room. “I need to get back at it. I’m making real progress.”

Ukitake frowned, drawing his thick, dark eyebrows together. He stabbed a stem into the narrow vase and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Renji. You’re working yourself too hard. I’m not going to let you back in the office until after the weekend.”

“The weekend?!” Renji sputtered. “But… but, sir! It’s only Thursday! What am I supposed to do with myself for four whole days?”

_And did the captain even know how much more stuff would pile up in four fucking days?_

Ukitake shrugged delicately, while shifting the flowers a bit. “There’s so much to see and do in the Seireitei, Renji! Or you could try relaxing for once. Go to the Kuchiki hot springs. Check out the Fourth Division’s theatre troupe. Go out on the town one night. Make a new friend.”

“That’s a good idea. There’s some great bars, dude,” Shiba said. “I could give you a list of the ones where all the ladies hang out at.”

Renji could not believe that two officers of the Gotei 13 just told an Academy cadet to go get drunk and pick up a girl. Renji shook his head vehemently, finally breaking. “I don’t need a freaking list of Seireitei hotspots. I need to get some stuff done.”

“Whoa, watch that attitude, kid,” said Shiba, looking ready to stand up.

Renji was ready to wade in and show Shiba some _real_ attitude, when Ukitake raised his hand. “No, no, it’s all right, Kaien. Renji is just extraordinarily stubborn and devoted to his internship. He has a hard time with the concept of time off.”

Shiba laughed at that idea, settling back down. “You’re some kind of type-A tight-ass, huh? Well, Abarai, maybe you should think of ‘fun’ as research project or something.”

Renji grit his teeth. _I will not kill an officer before graduation,_ he started his internal mantra. _I will not kill…_

“This could be good for you,” the captain insisted cheerily, putting a fern frond in among the flowers. “There’s no use continuing to bang your head against the wall.”

Renji blew a long, pained sigh out his nose. “I think you underestimate my willingness to keep bashing my head, sir.”

“Actually, I think I understand perfectly,” Ukitake said, “Which is why I’m putting a stop to it. Also, if you’re considering physically breaking back into your office, forget it. There’s high level kidō surrounding the whole place.”

_I knew it! Kidō, why did it have to be kidō…._ Renji was forced to admit defeat with a bow of his head. He said, “Fine, but would you do me one favor, Captain?”

“What’s that?”

“Sign the stuff I left for you, pretty please, sir? I can take them now and then… go on ‘vacation,’ I guess--if you insist.”

“I do,” Ukitake said firmly. He hunted around his desk for a moment until seeing the small group of papers underneath a painted daisy, “I’ll do this for you, but you also have to give me your solemn vow that you will actually _try_ to enjoy yourself.”

Renji finally stepped into the room. Grudgingly, he said, “Yeah, all right, sir. I promise.”

#

 

Kaien watched Renji leave and turned to his captain, “Charity case?”

“Hmm?” Ukitake finished his arrangement and set it off to one side of his desk. “Oh, you mean Renji? No, not exactly. He’s Shunsui latest curio.”

Kaien tried not to act shocked, but he swallowed his tea in just the wrong way and coughed. Had the captain just casually implied that Captain Kyōraku had started picking up Academy boy toys? “Shunsui’s? Shouldn’t he be grunting around the Eighth, then?”

Ukitake pursed his lips together. Kaien noticed the captain always did that whenever anyone asked any kind pointed question about what the folks over at the Eighth were up to. Ukitake busied himself cleaning up the various bits of stem and clipped leaves. “He’s fine here. We had something for him to do, thanks to your ‘sacrifice.’”

“Yeah, pretty rough assignment you gave me there, Taicho. No paperwork the whole time you were sick? Maybe we could keep this kid around full-time. I could get used to a life of leisure.”

Ukitake smiled, though he looked a little pained. “Full-time? He’s a little too driven for us, don’t you think?”

Kaien jerked his thumb in the direction Renji had gone. “Him? You must be seeing something I’m not.”

The captain sipped his tea thoughtfully, holding the bowl with both hands. “You must have noticed where he’s from—“

“Hard not to,” Kaien said with a grunt. “We always kept a lookout for his sort back home.”

“—well,” Ukitake said, with a sharp glance of warning. “Renji’s done surprisingly well with the assignment we’ve given him, especially since… that is, uh, I’m not sure he knew how to _read_ a year and a half ago. I noticed he keeps a dictionary at his elbow, but he still manages to get it all done.” Ukitake’s eyebrows crinkled with mild confusion and bafflement, “And, with a great deal of... vigor.”

Kaien laughed kindly at his captain’s discomfort; Ukitake was _such_ a water type. Anything fiery freaked him out a bit—that is except for the one great love of his life, Captain Kyōraku, of course. Kaien shook his head, “Vigor, huh? Is that what you’re calling it? I was going to say grumpiness.”

“Yes, well, he is surprisingly _fierce_ for a cadet.”

“That’s Inuzuri,” Kaien said with a dismissive shrug. “They’re all like that.”

“So… your family had dealings with people from that far out?”

Kaien could hear the deep curiosity in Ukitake’s question. The captain seemed not only endlessly fascinated with life outside the gates of the Seireitei, but particularly with Kaien’s clan, the Shibas. “Our house _moves_ , like, randomly--on its own. And, my sister has always had, shall we say, _interesting_ taste in friends. Those gangsters from Inuzuri always seemed to be able to hook her up with the crazy, highly-illegal explosives she craves. There were so many tattooed criminals parading through our house when I was growing up, it wasn’t even funny. It got so I could tell individual neighborhoods inside a particular district by accent and use of slang.”

“What can you tell me about Renji, then?”

Kaien took another sip of tea. “Honestly? I’m kind of surprised anyone from his neighborhood made it this far. Most of them are dead at his age.”

Ukitake was utterly horrified. He put his tea down gingerly. His eyes were wide, and face paler than normal. “You aren’t serious.”

Of course the kind-hearted captain didn’t want to believe what life was really like out in the Rukongai. The conditions Kaien grew up in would probably shock Ukitake, but the Inuzuri boy would have thought it rich and palatial in comparison. “Taicho, that kid’s lucky not to have PTS given what he’s probably been through.”

#

 

The idea of soaking in a hot springs appealed to Renji, but he discovered he was barred.

An extremely long list of rules outside the Kuchiki _osen_ included: “no conspicuous tattoos.” At the very bottom was a hand-printed addition in careful calligraphy that read, “No one from Eleventh allowed without responsible adult supervision. (No, your captain does NOT count, note use of term ‘ responsible.’ Also, your lieutenant, while far more responsible, is not an adult.)”

Seeing Renji standing outside with his towel and bathrobe, a passer-by sneered at him, “You having trouble with the big words, soldier? It says no Eleventh.”

Renji shrugged, deciding to be complimented by the fact he was being mistaken for an officer, “So where _am_ I supposed to go for a bath?”

 

# 

Despite the maze of the streets of the Seireitei, Renji managed to find the alternate sentō. Apparently, just seeing him carrying his towels and looking lost, caused people to point in the right direction. The attendant at this bath house didn’t even blink at his tattoos and explained in a bored voice that he should remember that it was inadvisable to attempt to choke your colleagues with the shower hoses and that if such behavior continued ‘this was why we couldn’t have nice things.’

After handing back his change, the attendant did give Renji one curious look. “You’re on your own?”

“Yeah, that’s okay, right? I don’t need a ‘responsible adult,’ do I?”

The attendant laughed, “Trying to sneak into the hot springs again, eh? No, it’s just… well, I don’t usually see your lot in such small numbers.”

His lot? Clearly he passed as Eleventh division. Renji still wasn’t entirely sure what that said about him, though. “Eh,” he shrugged, “Just want a quiet soak.”

“Well,” the attendant said looking at the clock that read well after noon, “You did get up early.”

The changing room was covered in extraordinarily rude graffiti, a lot of it sexual, but a fair amount was comprised of death threats and aspersions cast upon various people’s manhood.

_Gee_ , Renji thought, _it’s like old-home week. They spell about as well too_.

Of course, there was no hot springs, but the pool was large and just exactly what Renji wanted after a long night cooped up in his closet-sized office at the Thirteenth. He leaned his arms on the lip of the bath, tipped his head back, and stared blankly at a large, vandalized sign on the wall that once probably said, “No Horseplay,” but now was just a bad pun involving bestiality.

Twenty minutes later, Renji’s toes were wrinkly and he was considering that it might just be time to get out of the water when he sensed a roiling wave of spiritual energy. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. It had the intensity he’d encountered with Byakuya Kuchiki, but so much less controlled. Renji felt like he was being held in place by a giant hand as the building bucked and swayed.

Then, it was gone.

Renji had just caught his breath, when the massively powerful pressure was replaced by the impression of a dozen or so boulders rolling in his direction—a kind of avalanche of reistsu. This sensation was followed closely by the sounds of shouting.

“What do you mean I can’t bring my Hōzukimaru?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” came the voice of the attendant. “But there’s a no weapons policy.”

Renji could see them now. Six men came pushing and wrestling their way in toward the water. All of them but one Renji instantly categorized as ‘bruisers.’ The standout was a slender man with a jaw-length black bob-cut and what looked like feathers on one eye.

They all nodded at Renji in greeting before cannonballing into the bath, despite all the signage that declared “no jumping.” Again, the exception was the pretty one, who waited patiently for the splashing to end, and then delicately took the steps.

Into the pool area strode a tightly-muscled man with a completely bald head. Despite being stark naked, he carried a sheathed zanpaktō over one shoulder. He was being followed closely behind by the nervous attendant. “Sir, please. Your weapon needs to go in a locker.”

The bald guy smacked tip of his sheathed sword at a list on the wall. “It says: ‘weapons.’”

“Yes, but it’s supposed to read ‘no weapons.’”

“Not my problem. It _says_ ‘weapons,’ very encouraging-like.”

“It does?” shouted another guy splashing around in the pool. He had a tattoo of a tiger’s face covering his entire back. “Fuck me, I left the water pistol at the barracks.”

Renji wondered briefly what a ‘water pistol’ was, but figured it was probably best he didn’t know. He deftly dodged an elbow of another couple who had started trying to drown each other.

“You know, Ikkaku, I don’t think the steam is going to do Hōzukimaru any good,” the pretty one said from where he’d settled opposite Renji. “You could consider leaving him behind for once.”

“What?” Roared Ikkaku, “Whose side are you on, Yumichika?”

Renji had to shove one guy to keep him from either accidentally or intentionally head-butting him, “Oi, you drunk or something?”

The head-butter gave him a gap-toothed grin and put his fingers together in the “little bit” sign.

That cinched it. Renji decided his exit was way overdue. If he hung around too much longer, he was going to end up in a brawl whether he wanted to or not. He started to haul himself up over the side.

“Hey, you! Back in the water! We can’t leave yet,” Ikkaku shouted at Renji. “We just got here.”

“What? Listen, I’m not with you guys,” Renji looked at the attendant, hoping for a little help, confirmation. “I got here a half hour ago.”

The attendant shrugged, and he slowly backed away from the whole scene with his hands raised. “Sorry, pal,” he said to Renji apologetically. “He’s your commanding officer. I’m not getting involved.”

“But…” Renji started, not sure how to explain to these drunks that he not only wasn’t in their unit, but wasn’t even an officer.

Ikkaku gave Renji a hard stare. Renji could feel captain-level reistsu stabbing him with each word, as Ikkuku said: “Get. Back. In.”

What else could he say? He lowered himself back over the side with a sigh, “Yes, sir.”

 

#

 

Three bruises and a broken faucet later, Renji was finally allowed to follow the rest of the crew into the changing room. Tiger tat guy had his arm around him and was drunkenly declaring that they were brothers-in- _arms_ —get it!—because of Renji’s stripes. “Yeah,” he slurred, “Me and… what’s your name again?”

Again? No one had bothered to ask in the first place. “Abarai. Renji Abarai.”

Yumichika leaned against a locker. He had a towel around his waist and another artfully wrapping up his hair. He frowned and tapped a finger against his lip. “Abarai? When did you sign on?”

He pulled his blue Academy hakama out of his locker and held them up. “Look. I haven’t. I’ve been trying to tell you guys that for the last hour and a half.”

Ikkaku grabbed the pants from Renji. “A cadet?” He shoved Renji aside and dug through the locker as though looking for something. “No way!”

Maybe it was all the earlier jostling or an old Inuzuri instinct to protect his few possessions, but Renji forgot himself and shouldered Ikkaku aside, hard. “Oi, hands off my stuff.”

They wrestled for about a minute before the other Eleventh division guys pulled them apart. Renji struggled against the restraint as Ikkaku went back to digging through his things. “What are you looking for, anyway?” Renji asked, his voice scratchy from the forearm wrapped around his throat.

“Your zanpaktō,” Ikkaku growled.

“Let me know when you find him,” Renji said, relaxing a little—though it was difficult given all the naked man flesh that was pressing into him from all sides, still holding him back. “I’ve been waiting to see what he looks like.”

“It’s really not here,” Ikkaku said, sounding confused, once all of Renji’s things were scattered on the wet floor. Ikkaku stood naked, his hands on his hips, frowning at the mess as if still expecting to see it. “I was sure.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, sir,” Renji said. “Can someone let me go now?”

Ikkaku waved them off, and sat down dejectedly on the bench. “You’re really a cadet? You must be graduating soon.”

Renji rubbed his sore neck, and then squatted down to peel his shitage off the floor with a wet, sucking sound. “I don’t know,” he admitted, while trying to assess the damage to his undershirt. “I’ll be starting my third year. I guess I could test out at some point now, but no one’s offered.”

“A sophomore?” Yumichika mused, fluffing up his hair, “Only a baby, then.”

“Hey,” said tiger tat, “Don’t insult my buddy. He’s tougher than half the unseated. Ain’t ya?”

Renji got another shove on his back just as he was getting up, and he nearly stumbled into the wall. He automatically slung a foot out in a retaliatory kick.

Tiger guy took it in the shin with a grunt and a laugh, “See! I still say he’s one of us!”

“That’s only ‘cuz you’re still drunk from last night,” slurred gap-tooth head-butter.

“What the fuck are you doing wandering around without a minder, kid?” Ikkaku wanted to know, as tiger and gap-tooth started a fight over which of them was drunker.

Ikkaku glared at Renji as Renji dusted off some floor sludge the shoulders of the undershirt and then folded it over to tie the sides together. “Following orders.”

“You had orders to cause trouble with us?”

“No, sir,” Renji said, stepping into the hakama. “I had orders to take the weekend off and have some fun.”

“Heh,” Ikkaku smiled a grin that actually sent shivers down Renji’s spine. “Then we’d better make sure you do that.”

 

#

 

On Monday morning, back at the Thirteenth, Renji sat at a crowded table in the mess hall crunching something. He wasn’t sure what, but it passed as sustenance and that was good enough. The tea was blessedly strong, too.

Lieutenant Shiba gave him a little wave as he passed on his way to somewhere else, but then did a double-take. The two Third Seats nearly crashed into him when Shiba stopped short. He pointed to his forehead and made an up-and-down motion. “You’ve got something on your face, Abarai.”

“Yeah, new tattoos,” he said. They matched the huge new piece across his chest and another over his butt that was itching like crazy.

“Oh, uh….” Shiba clearly didn’t know quite what to say, because what came out sounded like a question. “…nice? I take it you had a good weekend.”

“I have no idea, sir. No idea.”

 


End file.
